Pa rests his hand on my shoulder and nods. “Let’s leave this place, Massimo. Do not keep your woman waiting.”
“No, I won’t.”
His face hardens, and I know he has no compassion when it comes to Emelia.
“Make sure she knows who is boss now. Make sure she knows who she belongs to.”
Ruthless. That’s what he wants me to be. I have no problem with that.
I have no problem with showing her who she belongs to. My fucking cock has been hard for her since I first saw her at the stupid ball.
I’ll have no problem breaking my new toy in.
Chapter Three
Emelia
Fear hit me the minute I stepped out of the car.
Then I saw the house. A mansion right on the beach. Dark and foreboding just like Massimo. The property seemed vast, like it stretched on forever, and in the moonlight all I could see was land and the gentle breath of the sea pulling in and out from the shoreline.
Wealth. That’s what it all said. Money and power. Money and power enough to buy a person.
Whenever I was scared, I used to run to Jacob, or at least call him. Tonight, I can’t do either. I can’t leave this place, and my phone was the first thing to get taken once we stepped inside the house. An elderly woman had come to the door. Curiosity filling her features. Although she said nothing to me as the men marched me in, I caught the glimpse of curiosity in her eyes and what I recognized to be fear.
The men marched me up a wide set of stairs and up to the first floor, where we carried on to the room I’m in now. They switched on the lights then left me.
That was roughly half an hour ago, but it feels like forever. I’m not sure which is worst—being left to my thoughts by myself or being around these people, scared and waiting for what’s supposed to happen next.
The room I’m in is massive: the floor is hardwood, it has a four-poster bed, grand mahogany furniture, and an entire wall made of glass that has a stunning view of the sea and the rock formations against the beach. With the glow of the silver moonlight it looks like a glimpse of a fairytale.
But this is not a fairytale. I feel more like I’m trapped in a Tim Burton film, stuck in a nightmare I can’t escape.
I sunk to the floor with my back against the wall and allowed myself to cry. I’m scared and I feel sick. I feel like throwing up.
The last time I felt this shaken was when Mom was sick and we knew there was nothing we could do for her. We knew she was going to die. It was Jacob who was there for me because Dad dealt with his grief by shunning everyone. Including me. I think of Jacob and know that he will be worried. He will call me and get no answer, then worry some more. I’ll bet too that he’ll go to the house in the morning to check, just to be sure I’m okay.
Will Dad tell him what happened to me? I doubt it. Jacob will go crazy, and it would not be good for him if he did that.
There’s a side to my father that I’ve caught glimpses of but didn’t see in regard to me until earlier tonight. As he squeezed my hand like he would break it if I disobeyed, I felt the desperation. I would never want anyone to get hurt.
I would never want Jacob to get hurt just for knowing me and trying to be my friend by protecting me.
Not even a handful of hours ago, my thoughts were consumed with going to Florence tomorrow. Now, my dream is just that: a dream. A thing my heart wants. I have to push that all aside to think about what is happening to me here and now.
The reality of the situation is this: I’m supposed to marry and live with Massimo D’Agostino for the rest of my life, and I’m just supposed to accept that?
How?
I can’t believe Dad would do this to me.
And realistically, what now? I’m in this bedroom. Is it his? It must be. Why would they take me to a guestroom if I belong to him? This room must be his. No one spoke to me at all. No one said anything, not to me or each other.
They just deposited me here like the thing I am and left.
What will happened when he gets back? Will he take my virginity? Would he care that I’m a virgin?
Men like him don’t care. They take. I’ll be here for sex.